Little Birdie
by sleepingbeast
Summary: When a first-year girl gets very sick, Tamaki might be the only thing worth recovering for; even if he could never stay with her.
1. Part One

It is the first day of the rest of your life. You rest your head and run through such cliches, trying to find the proper motivation to smile. You are depressed, or at least not as happy as you wish you could be. You are torn. Torn between never letting yourself want anything again and forcing yourself to try even though it's hard.

It is the first day of high school. You have considerable emotional baggage, but you assume this to be a given. In the end, you have to try because there's nothing left to do. You are as unsatisfied as ever with this conclusion. You assume this to be a given.

* * *

I walk through the door, expecting time to slow down for me to take in my surroundings. It doesn't. I'm shoved along, my eyes darting back and forth just trying not to bump into anyone. The only thing I can notice is how the ceiling is too high to be in my range of vision, and the plates displaying room numbers are more decorative than might be necessary. I don't particularly care about these things, so I forget them immediately.

A couple stops in the middle of the hallway to share a kiss. I dodge them and hide inside my homeroom class. This is a prestigious academy; haven't they been raised to avoid such indecent displays of public affection? I run my hand through my hair, mulling it over for a moment. It bothers me, and I do wish that someone would have said something, but I am not rash enough to create enemies on my first day. Even if such a thing is entirely inappropriate...

The more I think of this, the sicker I feel. So I move on.

My first class is Algebra I. Mathematics and I don't mix well, but I force myself to look at the bright side. Maybe now, since I have to be here first thing in the morning, I'll put a little more thought into this class. Maybe I'll study a little harder, since it'll come to mind as I sit in this room each morning. Maybe I won't struggle, seeing as I can easily ask the teacher for help without disrupting any classes.

I think of all of these things, but I'm really wondering how on earth I'll stay awake with Algebra first thing in the morning. Let alone retain anything. I stare idly at the board, reading over today's date a few times. I wish someone would sit here with me and say something. Even if they weren't saying it to me, it might calm me down if I could listen to them talking. But I'm just left here, listening to my own silly thoughts.

* * *

The day is over before I can really say what's going on. All I can think is, "Where did the time go?", as I stare at my locker. It comes over me all at once. I pause, still holding a Chemistry textbook midair. I'm overwhelmed for that moment. Where am I and what am I doing and why does it look like this? I thought... I didn't know what to think. The textbooks lined up on the shelf of my locker and the jacket I left here in case I got cold, they are there but they aren't there. Because, I don't see them. I don't see anything.

I breathe, completely aware of the act.

Then, I start to move again. It feels a little like I just woke up, except I've technically been here all day... Except, I haven't been here before now.

My thoughts make perfect sense except they don't and I am not to speak them right now. Until later, when I've seen things.

The textbook goes in the locker with the other textbooks because that's how it is. I stare down at my chest, fascinated by the color of my uniform. Yellow was always my favorite color, and... This shade of it is so lovely. And the sleeves are so puffy, I feel like Snow White. I love this uniform.

I close my locker, holding my hands against it to feel the cool metal on my palms. The lockers are hot pink. The headmaster is male.

The headmaster is in the closet.

I nod to myself as I view the hallway. The entire building is overwhelmingly pink. I might believe that the designers he hired were very feminine, but for him to approve the designs... I nod.

Then I laugh so hard.

* * *

It is the next morning. I wear the exact same clothes and my hair looks exactly the same. Uniform. Literally.

I stare at my face in the mirror. It's the same face.

I love that uniform.

"Miss Arakawa..."

So... pretty.

"We should really be leaving now."

"Yes."

And then we leave, because that's the thing to do.

The vehicle stops moving and my driver stops holding the steering wheel. We're already to the school. I open the door, step outside of it, and then close it again. Then I have to walk into the building, except my driver is excellent and so I don't have to walk far.

…

* * *

We are supposed to be having a class on Art History. However, it ended with several minutes to spare, and the teacher is now slumped over her desk, indifferent to how we spend our free time.

I am listening to people who talk, even though they're talking about things that irritate me.

They are gossiping about a host club, of all things. Isn't such a thing immoral? Yet, they discuss it so openly, as if it isn't an embarrassment. They're discussing how attractive they find each member, gushing about their favorite boy. Really, what the hell?

I twist a strand of hair around my fingers, pulling it a little too hard when they squeal about "what a great kisser Suoh must be". W-wha... Suoh?

Isn't that the chairman's surname?

Images of the chairman's various affairs flash through my head, not necessarily welcome there. My eye twitches. A homosexual and a lady's man, at the same time? At the age of 48, pleasuring students for profit?! What, what, what, what...?!

"He's so dreamy, with that princely personality..." A brunette is blushing.

PRINCELY? So he has an ego like that, too? What the hell?!

What kind of school am I going to!?

* * *

I go over this in my head, worrying it's only going to sound good up there but not trusting anyone enough to take it anywhere else.

So, so. The chairman. He's older now. And he's frustrated because the men don't look at him how he wishes. But the girls adore him, because of his status. And it makes him feel powerful where he's powerless, so he takes advantage of the situation. And it inflates his ego, to the point he considers himself like royalty here.

Except this is wrong, and he needs to realize this.

So I'm going to the host club. To shut it down. None of this. Not here.

I march off, but I can only maintain the stride for so long. Actually, I'm terrified. I don't want to go to a place like a host club. It'll be full of deviants, and everyone will think that I'm the kind of girl who's into that sort of thing, and my family will be so ashamed.

By the time I'm in the right hallway, I am barely moving towards the room. I don't want to be here. I said I wasn't the rash person who'll make enemies before I've even been here that long. And I don't want to be in this hallway where everyone will think I go to host clubs. My arms are crossed around me; I'm getting chills and my hands are clenching around my arms so tights that the circulation might cut off. I want to run away and I want to get it over with, but mostly I don't want to be here.

"Excuse me..." someone asks from behind.

My body feels like it just recognized the existence of gravity. Everything is heavy.

"Are you..."

And then I run.

* * *

I tap my foot, wishing Chemistry could last a few more hours. But there are only a couple more minutes, and then I have to follow through, or else I can't respect myself, because whoever that person was has the complete wrong idea, and if I don't straighten this out soon people are going to think that I am the type of girl who wants to go to creepy host clubs. And I don't.

The bell rings and I have to go on auto-pilot to even go through with this. So my legs move on their own and I don't see anything until I've pushed open the door to the third music room.

And then, the rose petals. Rose petals from somewhere I can't figure out, and everything is all pink again, and there is a reverse-harem standing in front of me, and all of them are staring at me, and there is no old creepy chairman, because all of them are young and beautiful, and this is a host club, and what am I doing here, and oh my god one of them is walking towards me, what am I doing here.

His expression is very soft and I can't believe how blue his eyes are. I can't remember what I'm doing here, what am I doing here?

"Why, hello there beautiful." His voice... It's... Oh, oh my. "What can I do for you today?" It takes me an hour to realize he asked a question, and another to think of the answer.

"Um... Where is Suoh?" My voice sounds wary and uncertain, not at all possessing the confidence lacing his.

He smiles softly, closing the distance between us with a single step. And suddenly, he's tilted my chin and I am overwhelmed by the amount of his face. "Why, I'm right here, my darling."

His voice gives me chills, and by the time I notice that perfect blonde hair I know I'm dead before the kill. I swallow hard.

"...I see." Did my face catch fire? I think it did. The rest of me too. I think I've combusted. I really shouldn't set this nice boy on fire, so, I think I'll be leaving now.

I jerk my head backward and I am out of his embrace. I nearly slam into the door, but I twist just in time to remember how my hands work and make it out alive.

I sprint away, fighting the strong feeling that I'd ought to stop, drop, and roll.

Behind me, a host club full of beautiful deviants is laughing.

"Who was that, now?" Someone finally asks.

Kyoya adjusts his glasses, reading off his laptop. "Arakawa, Kotori. A first-year... Daughter of the president of a large video game company. ...The youngest of the family by ten years."

Kaoru raised an eyebrow. "Ten whole years?"

Kyoya continued. "Two older brothers in their mid twenties... A sister who died very young, cause of death-"

Then, the door opened and girls flooded in, so Kyoya closed his laptop and everyone smiled.

* * *

I really dislike Algebra. I mention this because it's the third day now, and we actually have to study the subjects we are taking. In my mind I am glaring at the teacher for assigning homework, except that's rude so my glare looks like apathetic gazing, rendering it completely ineffective for expressing my displeasure. In the end I can't change that we have been assigned this homework, but I like to think that my textbook can hear the nasty thoughts I am having about it.

Yes, yes, solve your own damn problems for once, you stupid-

This is not a productive line of thought. I am properly upset, however. This is gibberish. They put the alphabet in my equation, and I am not enjoying this.

I glare at my book, except my glare looks a whole lot like quietly doing your homework.


	2. Part Two

**Several weeks later**

I don't really know why I'm going to the host club this time. But I never really know anything, so that's okay.

I think it might be since I was wrong.

Suoh of the Host Club is really that boy with perfect hair. Not the Chairman. Chairman Suoh, thank god, has nothing to do with the host club. Apparently, the boy's name is Tamaki, and he's the Chairman's son. I feel terrible about all the weird things I thought about his father. Even if the entire building is pink.

And I don't really know about the others, except I see them during lunch, and they seem very lively even then. So even if it's a place like a host club, I shouldn't be so rash, especially since I haven't managed to make any friends at all so far.

The door handle feels heavy, but I find myself wanting to open it just enough that it outweighs my shyness. It opens up, and the music room is full of young ladies.

I look on, seeing everyone in their element, there.

Those twins are clinging onto each other. Glasses guy, he's just typing on his laptop, but girls circle him anyhow. The tall one is watching the short blonde eat his way to diabetes. Squealing girls everywhere. A charming little brunette is chatting up a few ladies.

It's a host club.

Tamaki is at a table with some senpai, and I don't think it's wise to say much, so I just watch it all. I listen to the sounds of happy people, and something about it is nice enough, and something about it is probably still immoral from a certain viewpoint, I don't think it's worth it to notice such things. I sit on one of their couches, since it seems open enough that I might be welcome to.

* * *

"Hey, you have to wake up now." A slightly irritated... male voice? What?

My eyes shoot open, and I blink. I fell asleep in a classroom... No, no, I fell asleep in the third music room? That's even worse!

One of the twins is rubbing his forehead. Which was he... Kaoru?

It's kinda dark outside. How long does the club go on? Actually, there aren't any girls in here anymore. I think I'm getting in the way.

I think they might tell me to get out. So I go ahead and leave before they have to say anything unneeded.

As I'm going out the door, someone says, "Take care of yourself."

Yeah, the host club isn't bad at all.

* * *

To be honest, I think I'll go again today. It was so fun to watch everyone. They're all so animated.

It isn't pitiful or anything, right?

I mean, a lot of girls visit the host club. I've learned about it more, and it's really so popular.

Nobody would mind if I went.

...I just wish I could make proper friends, is all.

Oh well.

* * *

When I walked in this afternoon, Ootori Kyoya had a word with me.

"Hello, Miss Arakawa," he smiled. "Who would you like to reserve?"

I quirked my eyebrows. "Reserve? What do you mean?"

He shifted, looking at his laptop. I wondered if I'd already bored him, until he spoke again. "Well, this _is_ a host club. The intention is that you choose a host to spend time with, for a small fee," He explained. Then he looked up, a tiny smile in his eyes, as he said, "Not sit on the couch and watch them spend time with other people."

My hand found my the back of my head as I ran my fingers through my hair. "Ah, uh, I see," I laughed, slightly embarrassed. "I suppose so, huh?"

He started to type as a reply. I twiddled my thumbs, and so he pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. As not to risk an awkward pause, I threw out a question he might be more interested in answering. "So, then, how exactly does this, um, "reservation" thing work?"

"Well, it's not that difficult. Who do you want to be your host for this evening, Miss Arakawa?" Does he always sound so bored? It's as if he's had this exact conversation a thousand times over.

But for me, such a thing is embarrassing... When did it become like this? "Uhm, I guess, Suoh-san, if he isn't too busy?" Gee, my hair is soft today.

"Sure," was all he said.

It turned out reserving a host wasn't so cheap anyway, but it wasn't as if I couldn't afford it. I never do anything with my allowance; I can barely be asked to leave the house, most days.

Yes, companionship is something I need more than pocket money. It's a reasonable thing, right? I don't even know. Ootori shoved me in Suoh's direction.

He was staring rather hard at the brunette on the couch. Fujioka-san was drowning in women, for sure. But those eyes Suoh was giving him... don't tell me the homosexual tendencies are hereditary?

Okay, that was a bad joke, but it made me giggle just as I was sitting beside him, and it caught his attention. I coughed to cover it up, but that seemed to freak him out worse.

"Are you okay, Arakawa-san?!" he suddenly asked, making a scene out of it. A couple of the hosts and a lot of the guests glanced over, very quiet, before returning to their mischief.

"What? I'm fine, I'm fine!" I said. What had gotten into him?

But he just looked at me with something like pity, and I had never felt more confused. I sighed, wishing he'd go back to making love eyes at Fujioka. That was cuter, I think.

He paid attention to me now, though, and it was a strange feeling. His eyes... on me. How do you describe that? Overwhelming? Where is his princely character...? He just seems high-strung... So worried about this and that. And here I thought I might forget for a while. Who was I kidding...?

He poured me a cup of tea, though, and we observed his darling daughter (I'm not even going to ask), making small talk about this and that. I tried not to put my foot in my mouth and he tried to regain his mojo, but for the most part it was very average. Genuine, even.

He thanked me for my time. It seemed, "his little Haruhi" was doing so well that he didn't have many customers, himself, these days. It felt nice to be appreciated, even if it was for something as silly as this.

* * *

The weather was very ugly that morning. That's what they'd say if you asked a weatherman. I think it's silly, though. The sky is great like that. Even when it's supposed to be so ugly, it's really very beautiful.

I watched the sky from my seat in each class, even if I didn't sit near the windows. It didn't harm my concentration, I think. It may have even improved it. My World History teacher seemed to doubt this, until I quoted his past six sentences to him verbatim. Then, my World History teacher didn't seem to doubt much of anything I said.

Lunch was some sort of soup with far too many flavors in it, so I passed. Of course, that left an hour for doing not much at all, and it was still raining so hard out there...

* * *

"Huh?" Tamaki's eyebrows quirked, looking over to the spot where the first-year ordinarily sat alone. He turned to his right-hand man, Kyoya. "Is Kotori-chan absent today?"

Kyoya squinted for a minute, considering the implications of Tamaki's tone. Then he sighed, resigning to the truth. "No. She went outside."

"What?! It's pouring out there!"

Sometimes, Kyoya felt bad watching Tamaki get so excited over these sorts of things. Problems that weren't even his own. Then again, it was exactly what impressed him about the king.

* * *

He found her laying among the roses, being pelted by the storm.

"What are you doing out here?" he yelled, trying to be heard over the sound of a thousand raindrops.

He saw her lips move, but he couldn't hear a thing. And then, he noticed that her lips were purple.

* * *

Laying in this bed, I don't see much. The room is white; I thank my lucky stars that this could be excluded from the strictly pink building plans.

I feel very tired.

I'm not quite sure how I wound up in this room, and I haven't the slightest clue why I'm hooked up to this machine, but there's no one to tell me anything, and I'm not sure it's something worth knowing, so I'll just sleep.

* * *

Now, it's morning again. Except, I haven't gone through the process of going home and coming back. I'm still here.

My chest hurts.

Why am I still here?

The answer precedes the question, I suppose.

* * *

The boy with perfect hair is rubbing my hand gently with his thumbs. I can't help but notice how purple my fingernails are, despite the fact I haven't put polish on them since middle school. But his thumbs are warm, and his sad blue eyes tug at my heartstrings, so I'll just lay here and wish he could say something.


	3. Part Three

**A few weeks later**

I can breathe just well enough lately that I don't have to wear that mask, but it sure as hell doesn't mean I can get out of bed. What luck, huh? It's really creepy to see that IV sticking out of me, even after all this time, but I can ignore it most of the day.

They tell me I'm recovering, but some days, it seems like it might be better if I just dropped off the face of the earth right here. I mean, can you imagine the amount of math homework I have waiting for me? All of those problems to solve. I have to have all of the answers, and I'm just not ready for all of that. And I just know my tutor is going to throw a pity party the entire time and not tell me a damn thing, so I'm thoroughly screwed as soon as I have to go back. What a bittersweet victory.

* * *

I closed my eyes as they removed the IV, but I could feel myself bleeding.

"You're all good to go, Miss Arakawa," the nurse said with a smile, and I wished she was the sort of person that would call me Kotori-chan. But she wasn't, and so I tried to smile for a second before I knew she wasn't looking anyhow. My legs dangled over the bed, and I considered that I would have to wear pants again from now on. What a drag!

Of course, I got dressed anyhow, since it was the thing to do. And because my family loves me so much, they sent a driver for me with no one in the car.

I was prepared for a silent ride to a silent home, when I was intercepted.

Can you guess who?

The one who peeled me from the ground when I was trying to die in peace, now he wants to talk. Prince Charming on his white horsey.

I smiled.

* * *

"Howdy," I greeted, lifting my bandaged hand.

Tamaki pulled me into a warm hug. "It's so nice to hear your voice again, Kotori-chan."

"Only nice?"

He leaned down, his eyes twinkling. "It's marvelous, my dear."

"Well, I'm pretty happy to see you myself. In the sunlight, your hair is just like pale gold..." I trailed off, staring up at him in wonder.

He claimed my normal hand, and we went for a walk through the gardens. I was hoping we would be distracted by them, but it only served as a reminder of what brought us to this place. I was only waiting for this moment to arrive, and now I'm more scared than I was before.

"Why do you care so much, Tamaki?" I sighed, enjoying his closeness despite my doubts. I knew he couldn't love me from the start, but I thought it might be nice to hear his voice for a while.

"I think you're very special, so your happiness is important to me," he decided. At least he didn't lie to me too harshly, like with the girls he whispers sweet nothings to. Or maybe it was the same thing. I don't know. If I find a definite answer, it'll kill me, so why not enjoy this single moment? When his hand is warm against mine and it's just us two in a garden of beauty. He can be perfect, and I can pretend to be good enough.

He was slowing, though, and his eyes were too honest for lies.

"Kotori..."

"Yes, Tamaki?"

"Why did you go out in the rain like that?"

I had to close my eyes. I had to remember, envision that day, but really, I had to not look at Tamaki.

"I don't think I can give you the answer you're looking for," I said to his face, opening my eyes anyhow.

"I just want the true answer."

"What if there isn't one?"

"Then, tell me the one you like best."

So, I took his hand with my right-hand, bandages and all, and Tamaki and I continued through our little garden.

"I think the sky is really beautiful. And the rain feels so cool against my skin. I felt like, maybe if I just laid there, I could be washed away."

I knew Tamaki was making those eyes again, and I knew that if my hand weren't bleeding his grip might have tightened just a bit.

"It's so hard to find a good reason for anything you do. But when it comes to the sky, even at its worst moments it's giving water to these flowers... Maybe I'm like a flower, too, you know? And maybe I'll grow even taller now."

For the longest time, he doesn't say anything. I wish he would. We circle around, even though I know this must be the end.

"That's all I really have, Tamaki. I've never had many definite answers, but I think those will do for me."

"Can I ask you for one thing, Kotori-chan?"

"Well, gee, I've already poured out every part of my soul that's left. But, I suppose."

Pain or joy? He's squinting, and-

He kissed my lips. Only for a moment, but it's a moment worth eternity, I'd say.

I looked into his eyes, his deep blue eyes, locked onto my grey nothings.

"Please, take care of yourself for me."

And I cried, so he held me.

* * *

I figured I wasn't welcome around the host club from then on. I knew he loved Haruhi. I knew that, so I kept away. It would only hurt worse, I promised myself.

So I did the only thing to do, and I listened to other people speak. None of them sounded quite as good as Tamaki, but, then, none of them were trying to, either.

I studied a little harder on my mathematics, and I got an A on the next test.

I joined a club of my own: a light music club. And I practiced the piano so that I could fill the silences, and I sang a little so that I could imagine speaking with people.

And before long, I was surrounded by people who cared about things like this. And before long, it didn't hurt to see the host club I made my start with. Because before long, I was taking care of myself for him.

I think he must have known, too. Because soon enough, he came to see me.

I knew he didn't love me, but it was nice to think that he could. He visited me in the club room, when it was far too late for either of us to really still be here. And when no one else had to know about it, he'd play a melody for me, and I'd sing along with him.

…

I miss those times the most, I guess. When I sing at home, I always hear him harmonizing with me in my head. I guess it's just one of life's harshest truths:

The best guys are always gay.


End file.
